


The Hollow - Interlude

by idyll



Series: The Hollow [7]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Canon, Dom/sub, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-24
Updated: 2005-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyll/pseuds/idyll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsey's car gets stolen, so he goes to Gunn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hollow - Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moosesal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosesal/gifts).



Things with Lindsey fall into a pattern of visits to motel rooms twice a week, and they settle into a rhythm of breaking, and being broken, and collapsing into sleep before Gunn rides Lindsey back to his corner. They expand the routine, include dinner on the way back, and conversation starts to happen between them, in small fits and bursts that they each maneuver carefully. It's slow and cautious and Gunn figures there should be at least one thing they handle that way, and if it's a little backwards that it's the getting-to-know each other angle, then so be it. It's not like anything else between them is normal, anyway.

Late one night, Gunn's home after a boring day of sitting around and waiting for someone helpless to call for help, and when the knock on his door comes, he tucks a stake in the waistband of his pants, and holds his axe out of sight of the doorway when he answers.

Turns out he doesn't need either of the weapons because it's Lindsey on his doorstep, soaked to the skin from the thunderstorm that's been raging for hours now, swaying on his feet and looking exhausted enough to fall over right there.

"Shit!" Gunn hisses and steps aside, waits for Lindsey to successfully cross the threshold before wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him stay on his feet. "Bad night?"

Lindsey coughs out a laugh and shivers violently. "Fucking car got stolen."

"Okay," Gunn says easily but expectantly, because there has to be more to it for Lindsey to have come here for the first time. Hell, Gunn wasn't even sure Lindsey knew where he lived.

Gunn brings him into the bathroom, leans him against he sink and starts stripping the dripped wet t-shirt and jeans off of him. The t-shirt blocks Gunn's view of Lindsey's face, and when it's over his head and gone, and he's naked and covered in goose bumps, Gunn grabs for a towel, wraps it around his hips, and then narrows his eyes at the way Lindsey's head is tipped down, hiding his face.

"Lindsey."

"It's where I sleep." He looks up briefly, angry and frustrated and bitter. "My car."

And Gunn understands then, and he gets more towels, tucks one around Lindsey's shoulders, uses the last one to rub at his soaked hair.

"You could have called me," Gunn says quietly, and he very deliberately doesn't say *should have* because he's never let Lindsey know before that it was okay to do that, even though he made sure Lindsey had his number. "I would have picked you up so you didn't have to walk here in this weather."

"Thought about it," Lindsey says uncomfortably, and Gunn finishes with his hair, tosses that towel aside and takes Lindsey into the bedroom. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

Gunn looks up from rummaging through a drawer for a pair of sweats, meets Lindsey's shielded gaze. "Don't worry about it tonight. Just warm up and relax, all right?" Lindsey nods, tense and embarrassed, and Gunn tosses the clothes at him. "Get dressed. Come into the living room."

When Lindsey comes out of the bedroom, dressed in Gunn's too-big clothes, he looks like a teenager and Gunn almost winces when he thinks of that in relation to Lindsey's life, his reality.

"Have a seat," Gunn says casually and gestures at the sofa. "Think I got a blanket around here somewhere."

"You don't have to--" Lindsey starts to say, voice tight and strained, and Gunn arches a brow, which shuts him up and takes him to the sofa. He looks around as he crosses the room and sits, eyes taking in the small apartment and the second-hand mismatched furniture.

Gunn finds a blanket in the hall closet--one that he stole from a hospital during a visit--and he brings it to the sofa with him and flicks the lights off on the way, leaving only the television to light the room.

"I generally get about one night every ten days when I can veg out," Gunn says and sprawls next to Lindsey. He shakes out the blanket, covers their laps and reaches for the remote to un-mute the television. "Usually spend it watching movies. Got _The Matrix_ for tonight, and I was just about to start it."

For half of the movie, Lindsey is stiff and rigid, still shivering lightly, and Gunn finally turns to him and says, "Didn't I say to get warm and relax?"

Lindsey shrugs, glares at the floor, and Gunn tugs him down so that his head is on Gunn's lap, face turned to the television. He rearranges the blanket, turns down the volume a little and sets his hand on Lindsey's side and just leaves it there. Bit by bit Lindsey relaxes, tension seeping from his body, warmth starting to radiate from him.

The movie ends and Gunn clicks through the DVD menu, watches special features he has no interest in because he doesn't want to move, doesn't want to make Lindsey move, and eventually he looks down and sees Lindsey fighting to keep his eyes open.

Gunn touches the side of his face. "Come on," he whispers and turns the television off.

In the bedroom, Gunn nudges Lindsey down on the bed and gets him under the blankets. When he crawls in on the other side, he reaches out carefully, but Lindsey comes easily, willingly, and Gunn doesn't need to see Lindsey's eyes, hear Lindsey's resigned sigh, to know that another boundary, another line, is behind them, or to know that both of them are okay with that. Lindsey falls asleep within moments, Gunn following right behind him.

.End


End file.
